


Congratulations

by inkgel



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, M/M, blood alcohol and war are mentioned!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkgel/pseuds/inkgel
Summary: They win, again, and they fall back into old habits.Victory is always euphoric.





	Congratulations

Laughter bubbles up out of his stomach and into his mouth, where it tastes like iron and wine and mirth and mingles with the blood. 

They’ve won.

•••

Banquo is his friend, all else considered. A soldier, a husband, a wonderful man to have over for dinner, yes, but first and foremost, he’s his friend, which is precisely the reason that his face is the first Macbeth searches for in an ocean of soldiers who will never again see the light of day.

He kicks at a man who’s eyes still have horror written across them. His jaw slides open with an unpleasant squelch. Macbeth would give him his grief, if only he wasn’t one man of thousands who deserved it. He steps over his head and walks on by, thankful only that the corpse is not the man he searches for.

•••

There are no words when he finds him, drinking by a soldier who, rather unfortunately, has had his chest split open on a sword. The bottle in Banquo’s hand comes from a satchel that lies open next to him. It’s not his, but they’re not strangers to petty theft, not when the victim is long dead. It’s picturesque. He’d have someone draw it, if he could, to nail it to his chamber walls.

“Banquo!” He shouts, breaking the peace, and it echoes into the fog, that man shooting up, warm eyes bright with recognition. He throws the bottle to the dirt, and, laughing, jumps up and makes to him at breakneck speed, slinging an arm around a friendly shoulder. 

“Macbeth! I thought for sure you’d died! I had poured out half the bottle for you!”

“Your faith in me never fails to astound me, good sir,” is what he says, but the smile on his face speaks volumes. The hand on his shoulder is warm and familiar, he notices, wrapping an arm around Banquo’s waist and checking him up and down for injury.

(Or, well, that’s the excuse he’ll give if he gets caught.)

•••

When they’re in their tent, alone and unbothered by flies and gnats and worms, Macbeth takes Banquo’s face in his hands and pulls him in for a bruising kiss, nose against nose, teeth clacking together, blood-stained knuckles a blazing white around his cheeks, laughter threatening to burst out of both of their chests. 

Old habits die hard, Macbeth thinks in between breaths. He’s grown to love victory, he’s grown to love war, he’s grown to love-

Banquo pulls away and breathes warm air into the space between them, smiling and holding Macbeth’s hair in his fist. 

“Congratulations,” is the word that he says like a prayer, giggling like a child and pulling back to kick off his boots, those eyes still trailing and watching his kiss bitten lips. His cape falls around his shoulders like winter’s first snow, tainted by footprints and nosebleeds. “To fight by your side is a pleasure.”

“No, sir!” Macbeth laughs again, sitting by the bed and laying his sword by it. The blood leaks into the grass. “The pleasure is all mine.”

•••

Yes, they have wives to return to tomorrow, but tomorrow always feels so far away.

For now, they will celebrate, between gruel and stolen wine and battle worn faces, blood and empty skies and taunts, a kiss as fierce as war is all they need.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this really quickly to see how well I can nail their characters! Might do some more in the future, if inspiration strikes.
> 
> It’s 1am and I didn’t really proofread it so sorry if there are any mistakes hehe


End file.
